Master
by IndigoRabbit
Summary: After three months in cruel captivity, Orihime had nothing left. He became her whole world. [UlquiHime] [Dark!fic]
1. Chapter 1

**IMPORTANT. PLEASE READ:**

I am writing this as a trigger warning and as a forewarning to the readers in general. This fic will NOT be depicting a healthy relationship/romance between our lovely two protagonists at all, and should never be taken as such. Anyone experiencing abuse or the after-effects of abuse, I urge you to seek help, and hope from the bottom of my heart that you will find it.

I do not own Bleach or any other copyrighted material.

That having been said, here it begins..

* * *

Her hands gripped at the cold stone floor, fingernails scraping against the surface unpleasantly, having not been cut for weeks. Orihime Inoue stared blankly into the darkness, an unbearably heavy feeling weighing down on her chest. Sometimes she would fade out of consciousness, only to snap awake, weariness immediately settling back into her flesh.

She waited. She had waited for so, _so _long already.

Where was everyone?

Why was no-one coming?

How much _longer _would she be here, alone, aching all over with despair?

Inoue did not know how much more she could take.

The almost permanent darkness of the room had already begun to cloud the rust-haired girls' vulnerable mind. It would seep straight into her thoughts when it knew she wasn't strong enough to keep it out, and take hold, twisted black roots burrowing deeper into her brain, ripping apart every memory she held dear slowly, analytically. More often than not, she would remember things she hadn't thought about in years, that usually resided in only the darkest depths and recesses of her soul.

_"You are worth nothing," her father spat. "Don't you ever forget that." He gripped her brother, Sora's, arm harshly and ripped him away from in front of a terrified three year old Orihime. Her fear seemed to only fuel his anger. "Get that pitiful expression off your face, scum," he hissed. "You don't deserve to be cared for."_

_That was the last birthday she had spent with her parents, together as a family. Sora had escaped with her shortly thereafter._

In Orihime's mind, things soon began getting jumbled. The confusion and disorientation she felt in her physical prison translated into both nightmares when she was asleep, and mental chaos when she was not.

_"You are worth nothing," Kurosaki Ichigo drawled out. Orihime flinched, only to be chastised harshly by her friend, Uryuu Ishida._

_"You're such a bother, scum. You can't do anything right. It would be better if you had never been born," the Quincy grit out with a glare._

_And then there was Tatsuki. Her face was twisted in an obvious display of disgust. "I can't believe I ever even gave you the time of day. You're just a waste of space, like your mother."_

Orihime's silver orbs filled with tears. Couldn't they see, they were hurting her? Was it their fault she was trapped here? How could they say they cared about her and loved her, and then turn around and be so cruel and cold?

_They never cared or loved you, _the darkness whispered. _They want you to stay here, like this. That's why they haven't come for you. If they really cared, they would have taken you away long ago. They're strong enough to have done it, if they had really desired it. The truth is, they're glad you're gone._

Orihime felt the weight of her body multiply a hundred fold with the magnitude of what she felt was an epiphany. _'They're not coming for me..'_

_You're right. They're not._

Hot tears ran down her cheeks, her sorrowful eyes shining like quicksilver in the blackness, reflecting only the light of the moon seeping in through a crack in the wall.

It was like this that He found her.

* * *

He was the first person she saw after three months' imprisonment. When Orihime heard footsteps, she waited for the tell-tale clatter of the food tray being slid under the door, which happened - she thought - twice a day or so (she could not really tell).

But instead, she heard the doorknob being twisted and the creak of the door.

Orihime froze.

Her blood ran cold and she was paralysed, unable to speak, unable to even breathe. All she could feel was the most primal of fears, washing over her, her heart rate going wild and whole body breaking out in a cold sweat. What was happening? Did they decide it was finally time to kill her? She struggled to gasp for air, simultaneously squeezing her eyes shut as hard as she could. _Please God, _she prayed, _please don't let them see me...Oh please, please..._

"Woman."

Time stopped. Orihime's eyes flew open and she turned her head towards the door in what seemed to her to be slow motion. Dread was written plainly all over her face.

There, He stood.

* * *

The woman, He thought, looked ill. Her skin was ghastly pallid; auburn locks sticking to her forehead with sweat. He frowned, irritated at the prospect of their poached healer being possibly out of commission. He studied her body in a detached manner, scanning over for any other signs of physical malaise. Finding none, he moved his gaze upwards to her face, and found it to be skewed in distress.

But it was her eyes that caught Ulquiorra, the great fourth Espada, off-guard.

He had seen the expression of fear on many, many faces in his lifetime, and was the cause of almost all of them. The wide eyed, horror-struck look was one he encountered on a daily basis throughout his abnormally long lifespan.

Never, not even once before, had he seen _that_ look mixed with the rest of what he saw in her stormy grey irises.

It was written there, plain and clear, behind the terror. It seemed that she truly believed, consciously or no, that after three months of darkness and solitude, He was all she had. Her soul was bared to him in the most vulnerable way through those eyes, like the exposed and arched neck of a lover.

And He knew then: whatever he did next, she would give it the utmost attention and regard.

She was giving herself away to him and she hadn't even realised.

* * *

"Woman," He repeated at length, "Breathe."

Orihime took a sharp inhale and it was like the spell of paralysis was broken. She promptly began to pant, making up for lost oxygen. Ulquiorra watched the colour slowly return to her skin and then nodded, satisfied, before advancing on her. At this, she began to panic again, and inched her way backwards, before colliding with a wall. There truly was very little space in her cell.

She could see His lithe silhouette against the white light streaming through the open door. She felt the pang of a headache at the sharp brightness, although she imagined that before - in the times before she was here, and she had trouble remembering what that had been like really, any more - the light was much brighter, and she had been able to look at that with ease. He finally stopped, mere inches from her. Green eyes bore into her silver.

"You are being moved to a new room." Orihime let out a strangled gasp, before clamping her mouth shut as his gaze intensified.

"I will escort you there, and you will listen to me. Do you understand, woman?"

Orihime didn't quite understand yet - her mind was still reeling at the sudden sensory input, and she was finding it hard to make heads or tails of anything.

He seemed to sense this, and curled his fingers around her upper arm. "Follow," he instructed shortly and began to lead her out.

* * *

In the days to come, Orihime would not remember anything from the walk to her new room except the sensation of His hand, steady and controlled, gripping her arm uncomfortably tight. She held onto this sensation like a lifeline.

When they arrived, He dumped her there and left, locking the door behind Him.

She crumpled onto the floor, unable to stay standing any longer. It was too much. Orihime felt faint, like she was about to pass out; shutting her eyes and covering her face with her palms seemed to help - the familiar darkness was a welcome respite from the shock of the recently transpired events.

_"Breathe," _His voice echoed in her head. She did so obediently; slowly, the shaken girl relaxed. Adrenaline draining away, she felt bruises in the shape of His long, spidery fingers forming on her biceps, throbbing painfully at random intervals. The pain focused her thoughts and brought some clarity to her troubled mind.

Two hours later, Orihime Inoue was able to finally open her eyes and take in her surroundings.

* * *

This room was better.

It was big. She had space to exercise, if she so desired. She knew her muscles had atrophied significantly during her time in the cramped cell: She could feel it.

And it had a sofa.

Orihime could hardly believe her eyes when she saw it. Surely, this couldn't be real?

A dive onto the cushions a minute later proved that yes, it was. She lay there, arm over her face, covering her eyes tiredly. That one movement had already exhausted her. Orihime Inoue proceeded to drift off into what seemed like utmost bliss, sleep which overtook her so quickly she had barely any time to appreciate the softness of the mattress.

In her dreams, she was surrounded by slabs of rock in the shapes of her family and friends, only with entirely demonic facial expressions. They slowly closed in on her, making her bones creak under their pressure, and bursting arteries under her skin.

Then, just as she had given up hope, half-crushed and resigned to her fate, bright green eyes appeared, and the stone slabs were miraculously gone.

She liked those eyes.

They had made the pain stop.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you very much to those who have read, favourited and reviewed. I really appreciate it. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. All copyrighted material belongs to its owners.

* * *

The next time He saw her was two days later. Ulquiorra walked into the room to see the woman on the floor doing crunches. He waited silently, with the same patience that he used with lower Arrancar, until she finally noticed his presence.

"U..Ulquiorra-san!" She gasped, instantly kneeling to face towards him, big grey eyes dancing happily as she awaited what it was He had to say.

_She really looks ridiculous, training in Human school uniform_, the Espada thought. He didn't hesitate to tell her about as much. Orihime dropped her eyes.

"Sorry," she murmured.

A second later, something soft dropped to the ground a few inches from her. She lifted her head slightly, and was surprised to see an Arrancar uniform. With shaking hands she unfolded it, admiring how light and durable it was, and most importantly, how clean.

She had not had a change of clothing since she had arrived, and 'baths' consisted of being hosed down with lukewarm water within her cell. She had gotten used to the filth by the second month. No-one came in or out to see her, after all, and she couldn't see herself in the dark either, so it had quickly ceased to matter. This was the cleanest article of clothing she had seen in some time.

And He was giving it to _her_. Orihime felt a warm glow inside, and suddenly felt very grateful. The nightmare she had just endured seemed to be ending, and it was all thanks to Him.

"I shall be taking you to the shower room," Ulquiorra stated. "You will be fast. I do not expect you to keep me waiting beyond ten minutes. Is this clear?" She nodded the affirmative. "Very well," he confirmed and strode out of the room. Orihime quickly scrambled after Him, not wishing to left behind.

* * *

She ignored the whispers and glares all around her as they passed corridor after corridor, choosing to focus only on Ulquiorra. She didn't want to lose sight of Him for even a second, lest he disappear around a corner, and she'd be left alone again. Orihime blanched at the thought, and attempted to speed up. Her muscles protested with an angry burn.

The raven-haired Arrancar opened a heavy silver door inwards and stepped through, beckoning the woman to do the same. Inside, Orihime noted that it was some sort of wet room, with every surface tiled and shower heads on the far wall. There were clothes hangers to her right, and a basket full of different shaped soaps and sponges to her left.

Orihime turned expectantly to Him. After a moment of silence, she prompted the Espada.

"Okay, well, I'll be fine by myself from here on," she said as politely as possible with a shy smile. Ulquiorra noted that it did not quite reach her eyes, where he saw a flicker of uncertainty.

"Woman, I am not leaving."

This seemed to throw the girl. Her shy smile all but evaporated, replaced with confusion and anxiety.

"B-but...I...I need to undress.."

"It does not matter."

Orihime gulped. "Why?" She queried, and instantly froze as Ulquiorra directed an icy glare at her.

"I do not need to explain my reasons to you, woman. Do not waste any more of my time, unless you wish to remain unclean."

This seemed to be the deciding factor for Inoue, and she followed his orders, undressing and making sure not to make eye contact whilst doing so. She was scared of what His facial expression might be.

_I...I don't want to disgust Him...Like I disgusted father... _a small, nervous thought appeared in the back of her head, which she acknowledged briefly before trying to forget.

Ulquiorra, meanwhile, was inspecting the woman. Aizen had asked him for a report on her physical condition after the mention of her sickly appearance two days prior. In the war that was about to begin, they needed her to function well enough to heal their army. This actually really only required minimal physical health; even if the woman had been ill, it would not have made much of a difference. Aizen merely wanted to know if she was in any mortal danger.

_She is not,_ Ulquiorra decided, noting the bruises he had left on her arm when he had moved her to her new room, and some brand new scrapes, which he assumed were from exercising on the stone floor.

Her muscle tone and body fat were low enough to cause concern, however, with a few bones visible under her skin in places. _Have they been under feeding the woman..?_ He pondered, noting how smooth her hipbones looked under her creamy skin. At this point, she finally flicked her eyes up to take a peek at Him from under her eyelashes. Their eyes locked, and Orihime found she couldn't look away.

Ulquiorra admired the vulnerability she showed to Him through her gaze. The first time, in the cell, had been similar; this time, there was less fear and more of a desperate hope. For what she was hoping for, he was unsure, but despite her obvious embarrassment, she stood her ground, naked and wide open to attack of any kind, seeking his acceptance.

If he hadn't been the fourth Espada, it probably would have scared him.

Arrancar were fierce and closed off to others. Here she was, the complete opposite, awaiting some kind of response from Him. Ulquiorra, however, was not scared, and could deliver.

"Get clean," He ordered.

She turned the knob on a shower head slowly, and began massaging herself methodically with a sponge and soap. Every now and then, she stole a glance at Him, taking his silence as non-verbal approval. This made her relax.

Orihime finished washing within her ten minute limit, much to Ulquiorra's satisfaction.

* * *

Ulquiorra dreamt of the woman that night. In his dreams, she was naked before him again, wide doe eyes looking up at him hopefully. She was so fragile and vulnerable.

**And he wanted to hurt her.**

His arms transformed into black claws, and he took on the devilish appearance of his second release form. Ulquiorra dragged a claw across her smooth breast, slicing open the flesh as she cried out.

His tail wrapped around her body and tightened, leaving the woman to gasp for air, her cinnamon coloured hair matted at the ends with her own blood, tears streaming down her cheeks and he dug his claws under her skin, pressing her close.

Ulquiorra spied her white neck peeking through her mane, and she saw him focus on it. The woman struggled a bit and managed to arch herself further into his grip, exposing as much of the milky flesh as she could, offering it to him.

Ulquiorra was overtaken by some unseen force and the next thing he knew, he had sunk his fangs into her neck savagely. She screamed.

Content with the damage, Ulquiorra pulled back and let her drop limply to the floor. She steadied herself as much as she could, although they both could see she would be unable to stand.

Orihime's silver eyes met his own emerald, and she looked as vulnerable as ever. He had hurt her, and she would still give herself to him.

She was His.

Ulquiorra woke up feeling decidedly queer. For someone with no heart, it sure felt like his pulse was through the roof, and an unsettling, excited feeling played around in his abdomen, like a pixie wreaking havoc on his internal organs.

He sighed in frustration.

That damn woman.

* * *

That very morning, Ulquiorra was summoned to Aizen's throne room. Any lingering remnants of the dream were promptly pushed to the back of his mind, and he walked into the meeting composed, the very definition of elegance.

"Aizen-sama," he knelt before the brunette man.

"Ulquiorra," He greeted, reclining back and propping up his angular face with a hand. A small smile played on Aizen's lips. "How is our little flower?"

"Physically capable," Ulquiorra answered as concisely as he could.

"Very good. Soon, she will be able to play a larger role within our walls. I trust that her mind has been suitably fractured from her confinement?"

The fourth Espada took a moment to consider Orihime's state before replying. Fractured mind? Maybe. _Yet,_ he thought, _there is strength in the woman's open vulnerability. And she has entrusted it to me. _

"Yes, Aizen-sama." He would not tell Aizen more than he needed to know. Ulquiorra may have belonged to Aizen, body and soul, but the idea that Orihime did too unsettled him in a way he couldn't quite define. The woman had chosen to be _his_.

Did humans get a choice?

And, if not, could _he_ choose for Orihime to belong to him instead?

"I have a task for you, Ulquiorra. I am concerned that the girl's Shinigami friends have not taken the bait of her disappearance as of yet. I wish you to investigate both her comrades' and Soul Societies movements for at least a week, and then report back to me."

"When do you wish for me to leave, Aizen-sama?"

"Tonight."

Ulquiorra bowed and turned to leave. However, he stopped just short of the door.

"Aizen-sama, you entrusted me with the woman's well-being whilst she resides in that room. Do you wish me to find a replacement for the time of my absence?"

"No need," Ulquiorra narrowed his eyes a fraction at the sadistic smile that spread over Aizen's face. "I have already prepared a temporary guard. She will be in good hands."

Ulquiorra repressed a shiver behind his apathetic mask, and tried to shake the tendrils of foreboding that had made their way up his spine at Aizen's words.


End file.
